Rodeo Rancher

by Mary Sullivan

  Lily clapped and jumped to her feet. “Look at the sparkly leaves. Put it on me.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Please, Sammy, put it on me.”

  Samantha pulled it up over her pajama bottoms and Lily twirled around. At the child’s squeals, Sammy was glad she’d made such a large circumference at the hem.

  “What’s this?” Lily asked when her father handed her a second package.

  “The other half of your present.”

  She opened it and clutched the white eyelet top to her chest. “What is it?”

  Her voice quivered with excitement. Samantha couldn’t hold her back.

  “It’s a top to match the skirt.” She took off Lily’s pajamas and re-dressed her in the long-sleeve top and gilded skirt.

  “Look at me!” Lily squealed. “My clothes are pretty.”

  By comparison, Michael’s voice was lower than normal. “Lily, Sammy made those clothes for you.”

  Lily stared openmouthed. “She maded them all by herself?”

  “Yep,” Michael answered.

  Lily threw her arms around Samantha’s neck. “I love them, Sammy. You did good.”

  Every minute spent working late at night, every single moment of sleep lost, was worth it for this one heartfelt hug.

  Samantha cleared her throat, but her voice was still husky. “We should give the boys their presents now.”

  Mick and Colt loved their Meccano sets. “Hey, look,” Mick shouted. “We can make a tractor.”

  “Later,” Samantha said. “Keep the boxes closed until we clean up, and we’re going to eat first.”

  Jason’s reaction to his jigsaw puzzle was more subdued, but he was no less excited.

  “That looks like Rascal.” He pointed to the same horse Michael had noticed.

  The gift Jason and Lily had chosen for her was a small figurine of a rabbit with four baby rabbits at her feet.

  Four. Four babies. Four children. Oh, if only this fairy tale could come true.

  She cleared her throat. “Now your turn,” she told Michael. “The last two are yours.”

  Michael opened his first gift, again with flushed cheeks. He really didn’t like attention.

  When he saw the ruler, he grinned. “Was this Lily’s idea?”

  Samantha nodded.

  Lily said, “I’ll show you how to open it, Daddy.”

  His eyes met Samantha’s because they both knew it had been Michael who had first shown Lily how to do it in the store.

  “Thank you, Lily, for your thoughtful gift.”

  Michael flushed even more deeply when he realized the second gift was a hat. He tried it on. “It fits.”

  He studied Samantha so intensely she felt her own cheeks warm. “Do you like it?”

  “Yeah. A lot. You made it?”

  She nodded.

  He nodded.

  She nodded again. For a moment, she felt as though she were hovering like a tiny creature suspended in amber, the world around her golden and wondrous.

  Jason broke the spell by taking Michael’s hand and dragging him out of the room.

  Samantha tidied up, finding every scrap of paper and depositing it into the recycle bin.

  While the children chattered and looked at their new toys—and Jason and Michael were who-knows-where—Samantha took food out of the fridge, all of the breakfast items they would cook over the fire.

  It would be a Christmas-in-February Day camping breakfast.

  Jason showed up behind her and took her hand, gently urging her out of the kitchen.

  “What is it? I have to get breakfast ready.”

  “You need to come into the living room, Mom.”

  What was going on? From Jason’s quietly pleased expression, she figured it was something good.

  Samantha allowed him to drag her into the room where all of the children sat on the sofa without making a peep. Michael stood behind the sofa, watching her, his expression carefully neutral. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was nervous.

  In front of the armchair was a large box shape covered with an afghan. The armchair itself was empty.

  Jason led her over and she sat.

  “This is for you, Mom. Michael made it.”

  Her gaze shot to the man. “Michael made me something?”

  Michael shifted on his feet, not quite meeting her eye, but a smile hovered on his lips.

  “Merry Christmas in February,” he said, voice gruff. “Open it.”

  Opening it was as simple as lifting off the afghan. Underneath was a small wooden chest about three feet long by two deep and two high. She lifted the lid, closed her eyes and inhaled. The scent of cedar soothed her.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Michael watching her, a mixture of pride and uncertainty on his face. He hadn’t even wanted Christmas and yet he’d made her a gift, but then she’d learned that Michael cared for the people around him.

  “How—? When—?”

  He shrugged. “In the stables. In the evenings. Early in the mornings.”

  She offered him a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She couldn’t possibly infuse more gratitude into her voice.

  Because she couldn’t contain the emotions threatening to spill out of her, she turned to her son.

  “Did you help?”

  “Michael taught me stuff, Mom. He let me use tools.”

  She returned her attention to Michael. “Thank you, for everything.”

  He understood what she didn’t say. Thank you for teaching my son.

  To her son, she said, “We’ll talk later.” She wanted to hear every detail, every little bit of his contribution. What had Michael taught him? She couldn’t wait to learn.

  She set about making breakfast on the fire, aware of every movement Michael made and of every word he spoke.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Samantha squealed like Lily when she heard her brother’s truck turn onto the driveway.

  Travis was coming for dinner, with Rachel and her two children, one an infant.

  When Travis stepped into the house with the baby in his arms and a smile on his face, he looked whole in a way she’d never seen before.

  Rachel and the little girl standing beside him belonged there.

  Samantha finally understood without reservation that he’d made the right choice in moving here.

  Rodeo, Montana, made complete and utter sense for Travis Read.

  Michael stepped forward and took the baby from Travis so he could remove his outerwear and, Samantha suspected, so she could hug him.

  The baby stared at Michael with solemn eyes, but didn’t shy away.

  “Hey, kid,” he said and Samantha laughed.

  “You’re a silver-tongued devil, Michael. You’ve charmed her.”

  After hugging Travis, Samantha also hugged Rachel.

  “There’s a girl here!” Lily pointed from the doorway of the living room.

  After introductions were made—the child’s name was Victoria, Tori for short—and their coats had been hung up, Lily pointed to the new clothes she wore.

  “Sammy maded them. Aren’t they pretty?”

  “As pretty as can be,” Travis said with a glint in his eye. “Don’t you make a beautiful Christmas tablecloth?”

  “Travis, cut it out!” Samantha laughed. “Save me from bratty older brothers.”

  To Tori, Lily said, “Come see my doll’s new clothes. Sammy maded them, too.”

  They congregated in the living room.

  Michael seemed to have relaxed into having company in his house after so many years of being out of the habit. He rose to the occasion and Sammy couldn’t have been more proud of him.

  They ate the dinner that Samantha and Michael had made together, crowded around the harve
st table in the kitchen.

  Never in Sammy’s life had she felt part of a family, especially not one so loving and full of affection.

  She proposed a toast. The adults raised their wineglasses and the children their juice and water.

  “To each and every one of you wonderful people,” Samantha said, “who have brought joy to my life.”

  “Here’s to Christmas in February,” Michael said quietly, his eyes on Samantha. She warmed beneath his gentle regard.

  “Hear, hear,” the adults murmured and drank.

  “Hear! Hear!” Mick shouted.

  Michael sighed. “Hearing aids, Mick.”

  The child laughed and ran to his room.

  * * *

  MICHAEL FOUND HE eased back into the role of host as though it hadn’t been more than three years since he’d last played it.

  Of all of the things Samantha had done for him, this might be the best. She’d not only brought laughter to his family, but now she also shared her entire family with him.

  At six that evening, just before they served dessert, someone knocked on the front door.

  Surprised, Michael went to answer. He opened the door.

  Damn. It only needed this.

  Karen Enright stood on his veranda, her expression equal parts angry and hopeful.

  From the kitchen came the sounds of laughter and general merrymaking that had begun early this morning for Christmas in February.

  “What’s going on, Michael?” she asked.

  He tried to see it from her side.

  For three years, this house had been a fortress of darkness. Karen had been free to come and go in that last year of Lillian’s life. She’d been a godsend, had cared for the children so he could get his chores done, and had helped at times to nurse Lillian so she could stay home.

  He’d never asked for her help. It had been freely offered, and yet Michael had felt burdened by the weight of her generosity.

  Toward the end, all his wife had asked of him was to die at home.

  Karen had helped to make that possible. And how had he repaid her? By pushing her away after Lillian’s death. Karen had been a too-visible reminder that Lillian was gone.

  As he had with all the other women who’d tried to encroach on the suddenly single man in town, he’d rebuffed her.

  While the other women had faded away after the casseroles had been eaten and their dishes returned, Karen hadn’t given up. She’d been the one to keep in touch.

  And then, she’d been the one pursuing him.

  He’d cut himself off from most people, but especially from her.

  He couldn’t give her what she needed. He wished he could.

  In his defense, he’d always been honest with her.

  Her fingers twisted the handles of her purse when he was silent so long. Again she asked, “What’s going on, Michael?”

  How could he explain that none of this had been his idea, that he’d been dragged kicking and screaming into it, but now that Christmas in February was here, it felt right?

  “You haven’t been returning my calls.” Karen stepped into the hallway. He had no choice but to let her in. “I heard rumors in town.”

  He cleared his throat. “About what?”

  “That you have a woman here.”

  “It’s not the way you think.”

  “Then it’s true?” She tried to see around him, but he didn’t want her to, yet another complication in a life that had become nothing but complications.

  He cursed that he couldn’t change the truth, that he couldn’t love Karen.

  “Let me explain.” He crossed his arms, as though he could ward off this entire conversation. As though he could ward off her. But that was unfair.

  He owed Karen a lot. Not his life or his love or any commitment from him, but she had earned his gratitude and compassion. “Her car broke down the night of the storm.”

  “The night I was so worried you told me not to come over, you already had a woman here?”

  “Not like that! I didn’t want her here, either, but she and those two boys would have died if they’d stayed in the car.”

  “So you took them in?” She rested her fingers on his arm. “I admire your generosity, but why is she still here? That is her I hear, right? In your kitchen? The storm was eleven or twelve days ago.”

  “I know, but the snow wasn’t cleared and the children like her, and we didn’t have Christmas, and...” He wasn’t making sense. He barely knew how to make sense of it himself.

  This situation, these events, had flattened him. No, he didn’t have control over his life right now, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it.

  He heard Lily talking, her voice high and sweet and animated. She was happy. He was happy.

  A stranger had stepped into his dark home out of a howling snowstorm and had worked her magic, filling his house with light and noise and messy days and peaceful nights.

  Above all, she had filled his house with joy.

  Michael sighed loudly, and Karen’s demeanor changed. She knew without him saying so that whatever hopes she’d cherished had been dashed.

  Samantha Read had brought joy into his home, and he planned to grasp it with both hands and never let go.

  She belonged here.

  Her boys belonged here.

  Karen turned to go, but he touched her arm. He couldn’t watch her walk out of here so unhappy when she had done so much for him and his family.

  No, he didn’t love her, but now that he was free of her expectations, he realized how much affection he felt. She had a heart of gold.

  “Would you—? Do you think...?” She was hurting and he didn’t like that, but was it right to invite her in to share the enjoyment everyone else was having in his home?

  Would she want it? Or would it hurt her more?

  God, he didn’t know. He was a simple rancher, not a psychiatrist.

  All he knew was that it felt right to share with Karen, even if only something as mundane as a slice of pie and a cup of coffee.

  “You wouldn’t want to join us, would you?” Michael asked. “The kids would love to see you. And I would like you to stay.”

  She seemed to fight within herself and settled on a nod. She didn’t look happy. Maybe she was joining them out of curiosity. Maybe she just wanted to meet the woman who was becoming part of his life.

  “Let me take your coat.” He hung it on a hook and led her into the kitchen.

  “Hey, everyone, look who’s here.”

  Lily squealed, “Karen!” and launched herself at her. The ice was broken. Karen lifted Lily into her arms and tousled Mick’s hair.

  He grinned at her. “Hi, Aunt Karen.”

  “Karen.” Michael took her elbow and drew her close to the table. “You know Rachel.”

  Rachel gave a small wave and smiled. “Nadine said you offered to help in the summer at the fair. I appreciate it. We’ll probably work you to exhaustion.”

  Rachel laughed and Karen responded with a soft smile. “I love what you women are doing. It will be nice to have the excitement of the fair and rodeo back in town.”

  If Karen’s voice wasn’t quite steady who could blame her? Michael’s house had been quiet and empty for three years and now it was full. Karen had hoped to be the woman to fill it. Her hopes had been dashed.

  Only now, when it was too late, did he realize how much there was to admire about her, like the grace she was displaying now.

  He left the room to get another chair. “We’ll squeeze you in here between Mick and Lily.”

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  “Karen, have you met Travis Read?”

  “No. I’ve seen you around town, but we’ve never met.” She shook his hand.

  “Beside him are his nephews, Colt and Jason.”

 
Jason stood, walked around the table and shook Karen’s hand. Colt grinned and waved.

  Michael gestured toward Samantha at the far end of the table.

  “This is Samantha, Travis’s sister.”

  Samantha’s welcome was warm. “Your timing is impeccable. Would you like dessert? We’re just about to cut into a couple of pies.”

  She stood up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Karen Enright.”

  Samantha’s smile was brilliant. “What a funny way to meet! I’m your new employee.”

  Gobsmacked, Michael stared, his gaze shifting between the two. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to be starting work for Karen’s company next month, once the boys and I are a little more settled.”

  He remembered her mentioning that she was an accountant, but not that she had a job lined up in town.

  Samantha had no idea who Karen was, and what she’d hoped for with Michael. How would it affect her job?

  Karen’s expression, he noted, was carefully neutral.

  She put together a place setting for Karen and then said, “Michael, can you get a coffee?”

  Karen put her hand over her cup before he could pour. “Only if it’s decaf.”

  “It is,” Samantha said. “I’d be up all night if it wasn’t. Since this morning started just after five, I’m exhausted. I need my beauty sleep.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Everyone turned to stare at Karen. Michael held his breath. What did she mean? Was she about to get catty or biting?

  “You are quite stunning already.” Karen’s voice was clean and true, uncolored by sarcasm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman.”

  Samantha blushed. “I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not as though it’s a great accomplishment. I’ve never done anything to earn it.” She laughed and pointed to her sons. “My biggest accomplishment was having these two rascals. That’s about it.”

  “Hey, sis,” Travis said. “Don’t sell yourself short. What you did to Manny d’Onofrio took real courage. You’re a hero.”

  “Manny who?” Michael asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Manny was my old boss in Vegas. I caught him embezzling from the hotel I worked for and called the FBI.”